Faking Happily Ever After
by Micky Moon
Summary: AU: For the sake of blackmailing her, he'd gladly become her knight in shining armor. —Juvia/Gray
1. one

_one_

With a resounding thud, his back hit the wall, sending cracked bits of cement flying everywhere.

The beaten boy slowly lifted his head, which felt heavy, painful. No sooner had he blinked back the pain and opened his eyes than a fist flew straight into his face. The boy groaned, struggling to get back on his feet when a hand yanked the tip of his chin upwards.

Eyes concealed behind a pair of dark shades stared at him. He couldn't quite discern the expression the eyes held but knew, for certain, that it was anything but friendly. The grip the hand had on his chin tightened into a pinch.

"Gray Fullbuster," the man with sunglasses said, "you dare mess with Oracion Seis?"

Gray didn't reply, his breathing erratic. A deafening buzz rung in his ears, making it harder to concentrate. His silence, however, furthered his assaulter's impatience. Balled fists punched his gut, eliciting a scream and groan from him.

"Now, now stop." A female, wearing a coat with way too many fake feathers, stepped up, pushing the man with glasses aside. "Don't hurt the poor boy."

"Boy?" The male sneered. "Boys grow up fast, Angel. They all do. And when they do, they become cocky. Too cocky. As if their world is changing too quickly for them."

Angel, the woman with the feathery coat, folded her arms, scoffing. "Stop telling everyone your sad backstory, Racer. No one cares."

Racer bristled. "That attitude! You would go nowhere in life with that attitude."

"I'm in Oracion Seis. How much more nowhere would you want me to go?"

"Hey watch it! I'm here!"

"You lovebirds..." The bickering two looked away from their conversation, turning to the boy who regained a bit of his strength, consciousness flooding back to him. Light barely trickled through the narrow gap between the buildings overhead, spotlighting the top of his head as though his time had come. "...make out when you don't have an audience."

"What?!" Angel riled while Racer shook his head disappointedly. "Gray, Gray. If only you had stayed unconscious longer..."

But this wasn't an action movie, where all good and bad were black and white, where the hero could recover from injuries, where the villains would eventually be apprehended.

Gray struggled to stand on his quacking legs. He fell.

There were only monotonous grey, grey, grey. Heroes were weak, weak, weak. And villains—

Racer chuckled lightly at the sight, cracking his knuckles.

"...let's get this over with quickly, okay?"

—were everywhere, everywhere, including inside of him.

—

The sky's dark, midnight blue matched his mood, as Gray staggered up the rusted red stairs which led to the side of the building where his apartment door was located. With every step, his joints ached and wobbled. Pain shot through his body. He nearly retched backwards, his body dangling dangerously away from the stairs.

"Fuck," he barely managed to let out, eyes blood shot and voice coarse. "They really meant business, didn't they?"

The image of his assaulters came to his mind as he decided that climbing up all those stairs was too much work on a normal basis, let alone when he was as torn and tattered as he was. He sat down, trying to ease himself on a stoop only for his arm to give way. His butt came crashing down.

"Fuck!" It was then that he laughed, ignoring the immense agony that came with the simple action. It was so suiting, so appropriate. To laugh while feeling pain. It was a sentiment which felt so right; he couldn't have it any other way. What did it even mean to laugh without any other feeling? It would then become a hollow one, for the happiness in laughter was only temporary, if not elusive. Laughing more merely maximizes the pains of reality afterwards.

Laughter was a morning dream, hazy and within reach for a fleeting second before disappearing from the memory for good.

Then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded in the silent air, plucking Gray away from his submerged thoughts. Originating from his apartment, the shriek ranged from great volumes, evoking such agony upon the reaching a higher note.

With great difficulty, the boy got up and sprinted for his apartment, flung the door opened and ran to the innermost room of his apartment. The screams grew louder and louder until Gray reached the front of his room where the screams became unbearable. This room was locked with three padlocks; it took much time for Gray to fumble for his keys and insert them into each key hole, a small hissing produced when he finally got the door fully unlocked.

He staggered into the room, eyes scattering for the screamer. The screams at stopped by now, its cause sat in the middle of the tiny room, which was littered with papers, scattered in random piles.

"Gray!" The screamer greeted, raising a hand to wave. "Welcome home!"

His lips parted a deformed smile and he breathlessly sank to his knees, numb by now from the pain his injuries gave him. It didn't stop him from crawling over to the screamer, who sat cross legged few feet away. Letting his head fall on top the screamer's side, Gray closed his eyes momentarily.

"Yes. It's good to be home. Lyon."

Lyon, a white haired young man in his late twenties, grinned toothily at his younger brother. He reached to ruffle Gray's hair, and Gray tried squirming from his touch, refusing to be treated as a pet.

"But our Gray's hair is so silky soft!" Lyon protested when Gray didn't allow him more than the first touch. "He's definitely getting all the girls at school, isn't he?"

"Yes," the boy grinned, "I definitely am!"

"But don't be a player otherwise the girl you're serious with won't take you seriously."

"Oh I'm pretty sure she doesn't take me seriously."

The older male gave the younger a sympathetic stare and pat on the back. "There, there. If you need help with getting a girl, just ask Ultear for her opinion as a girl when she comes back."

Gray stilled at his brother's words; the smile on his face suddenly become hard to maintain. "Y-yeah." He struggled to say. "I will."

Unable to sense his discomfort, Lyon nodded, satisfied.

Swallowing back surging feelings, Gray rubbed the back of his neck. "Say, it's pretty warm in here isn't it? Let's turn on the air conditioner—"

"—it's seventy degrees," Lyon pointed out, "the weathermen in the morning said so."

"Well you shouldn't believe all that is said on TV." Gray's eyes scanned desperately for the air conditioner, finally spying an abnormally bulky box hidden under piles and piles of paper. His hand reached to swat away the mess but was smacked away by his brother's hand.

"—stop," he said, "it's cold."

His brother's eyes locked on his with profound intensity, hiding hurt feelings both of them shared because of the same person but of different relations; the person was a lover to one and a sister to the other.

The clock hanging above the doorway chimed then, indicative to both men of Lyon's bedtime. Lyon turned away from Gray to the only furniture in the room; a king sized bed, which appeared out of place in the already cramped room.

"I'm sleeping!" Lyon unnecessarily announced, "good night!"

Swallowing back his pain—both physical and mental—Gray nodded, smiling thinly. "Alright. Good night."

He got up and turned off the light, lingering by the frame of the doorway to gaze at the sleeping silhouette of his brother's figure. Lyon had always been a sound, quick sleeper. After a few minutes of reassuring his brother's sleeping state, Gray closed and locked the door.

—

He plopped down the couch when he immediately reached the living room. Exhausted, he laid his head down on a pillow, finding it incredibly uncomfortable compared to his brother's—and even _her_—shoulders. Looking around the room, he lamented the emptiness of it. It was a larger room than the one Lyon was in but held less. There was only the couch he laid on, a coffee table in front of it, and three photographs, facing on their back, hanging along the walls near the door.

Oh, how could he forget the air conditioner? He strode over to turn it on and as the rusted machine beeped and rumbled its way to produce cool air in the goddamn hot, stuffy apartment, the doorbell rang.

Racer and Angel, and other underground gang members, were the first he thought who could possibly ring at his doorbell this late at night. But even gang members had a class of their own, disliking turning a person's house upside down unless it was absolutely necessary. Still, they beat him up pretty badly today.

"Was it a warning?" Gray mused. "Usually they would go away after they give me a bruise." Even Gray was aware how sad his situation had become; for him to have reached the point he was _friendly_—or at least, remotely—with his debt collectors.

The doorbell rang again, leaving his musings unsolved. He reached for the nearest item he could find and slammed open the door, holding the object dramatically.

"You will never have me alive—!"

The person who stood before him was neither Racer nor Angel. In fact the person didn't belong to a specific gang member. This five feet four woman was _way _less terrifying and agonizing than any other gang member he'd have to encounter—

"—_Gray._" Her tone was flat and face unimpressed. "What are you doing? Do you seriously think you can attack someone with _that_."

He looked at the object he was holding and sweat-dropped to see it was a pillow. He took what he said back. This woman was _way _terrifying.

"Gray, Gray, Gray," she shook her head. "What should I do with you?"

"Hey, that should be my line," Gray pouted, trying to redeem any pride he had left, "what's a young woman like you going to a _man's_ house so late?"

"It's eight o'clock."

Blinking, Gray took a step back to look at the clock in the living room. The hands read eight o'clock. "Wow, that's it?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course, mademoiselle," Gray bowed theatrically, swinging his arms in a gentlemanly, welcoming way. The blonde woman rolled her eyes, brushing past him and seating herself on the couch. Closing the door after her, he approached her, noticing, for the first time, the white colored first aid kit she carried with her. He pointed at it.

"What's that for?"

"Your wounds," she replied. "Every time I visit you, you're always covered with wounds."

Tilting his head to the side, he felt a prickly sensation at his arms and remembered that it was wounded. "Ah, this? This is nothing. I just have to—"

"—come here." His arm was forcibly wrenched downwards, pulling his body towards the floor. He was forced into a crouching position as the blonde woman, who was rummaging through the first-aid box, held captive his arm. "I'll tend to it."

"But—"

"—no buts."

His upper lips became more pronounced, forming a pout. The woman ignored it, working diligently at her handiwork. Instead of feeling insulted of being ignored, Gray couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks a lot Lucy!"

"I should get more than thanks," the woman muttered bitterly but even she couldn't help a small smile form on her face. When she was finished, she released his arm, turning to clean the mess she made. "Don't get it wet immediately. Leave it on for a week."

"Alright!" He helped clean up when they were done and in a few minutes they were back to sitting on the couch, side by side, in silence.

"So how's college?" Gray asked.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Terrible. I don't understand anything in economics. You mind helping me out sometimes?"

"Of course! If I can be of any help, just let me know."

"You know it's a shame that you're not going to college. You're way more smarter than me."

"And you know, it's a shame that the three time winner of the countrywide story writing contest is majoring in business, when throughout all her life she sucks at math—"

"—I get it," the woman looked irritably at Gray, who smirked. "You know why I wasn't able to major in English."

"Yeah, yeah. Your father. How is he anyways? I haven't been able to visit him lately."

"Oh you know. The usual. It's a good thing you don't visit him."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You sneak him beer, Gray. Beer. When clearly alcohol poisoning is what hospitalized him in the first place."

"Hey, I can't help it if he's offering to pay."

"Offering to pay?" Her voice was mixed with incredulous and disgust. Her brown eyes zeroed on him with fierceness. "Kami-sama. _When_ will you grow up?"

She no longer was talking about her father, as Gray could clearly tell. He dropped his own silly expression and donned one of complete seriousness. "What do you mean?"

"You're kidding, Gray. _You're_ kidding." Lucy appeared eager to pull at her hair; her hands balled tightly the bottom of her dress. "I know your mother's death hit you hard and since then you've been getting into fights but fuck. What would Ultear say if she was less busy? Does she even know what you're doing? I can't believe Lyon isn't saying anything either—"

"—Lucy," his tone was dry, crackly, poisoning. "_Fuck_. Off."

Seeing that she went too far, Lucy dropped the topic and the two were submerged in steamy, angry silence. The hissing of a working air conditioner filled the air right next to Lucy. She shivered and reached to shut it off.

"Stop," Gray said, stopping her from shutting it off. "It's too hot in this place."

"You're kidding? It's so cool outside that with an AC on inside, it feels like freaking subzero."

"As if I care. It feels hot to me."

Lucy looked exasperated, gaping at Gray. "You're way too stubborn for your own good, you know that right? If you have a problem then—"

"—speak for yourself," Gray intervened, "you have a problem of meddling with everyone's business when you have a bunch of problems of your own. See how your father turned out—"

A slap on his cheek cut him off; the impact leaving a red handprint and creating an instant, but loud noise. His eyes widened and he dared not to look in Lucy's directions until he heard her got up.

"I'm leaving."

He slowly nodded, turning to see Lucy slipping a rectangular box by the coffee table. When she caught him staring, she explained, "I purchased the game you modeled for. It was...fun. More fun than when I'm around you, that's for sure." And with those words, she left.

He didn't move an inch; his eyes never left the spot where she stood before. She was definitely mad. _Definitely_. But her anger was reasonable. Knowing her since elementary school should've made Gray more prudent with his choice of words. But that was the thing with knowing people for so long. People became used to each other. So used to that they would hurt those who were closest, dearest to them first, unintentionally or not.

Gray scratched the back of his head before growling in frustration, hating himself for lashing out on Lucy. Even if he had to deal a lot, this didn't justify dumping it all on Lucy, who also had her fair share of problems. Since they started high school, her father's company became bankrupt and incurred an enormous amount of debt which drove them to poverty. Her father spent his unemployed days drinking until he had to be hospitalized. To this day, he remained unemployed and hospitalized. Forced to grow up at a young age, Lucy spent most of her time juggling both school duties and her part time job.

Gray helped her as well, giving her lessons whenever possible. But despite Gray being more capable of studying, it was Lucy who went on to college, majoring in business, which dealt with areas of studies Lucy was weakest in.

Because of this, Lucy remained bitter to this day, partially blaming herself for taking up his time from his studies and partially blaming him for not making time for himself. She thought he wasted his own intelligence in physical fights, which he never came out scott-free.

There was, of course, a reason why he became involved with fights, despite knowing how weak he was in combat, a reason which Lucy didn't know and Gray would never bother to tell her.

Why would he if she had so much going on for her?

He finally got up to grab a blanket and pillow to sleep with on the couch. Rummaging through the closet, he let the contents spill on the ground, grabbing what he needed upon sight. He plopped on the couch with the pillow and blanket.

Ever since Ul's death, his bedroom was too uncomfortable, too stuff to sleep in. He sat up to crank the temperature of the air conditioner lower. He settled back down.

At first his mind was buzzing with flurries of angry thoughts: angry thoughts about Lyon and his mentioning of _her_, angry thoughts about Lucy and her impatience with him, and finally, angry thoughts about _her_ and how _she_ was the cause of all their trouble. It was _her_ who left him and his brother in this state. It was _her_ who he had to throw his future away for. If _she_ ever did return, he would definitely give her a piece of his mind…

…and then most likely back off since _she_ was just as scary, if not _more_, as Lucy. A small grin snuck on his face as the memory of him and Lyon sneaking cookies before dinner elicited an over-the-top angry fit from _her_. _Her_ brown eyes would flame and small lips formed a vicious snarl. _She_ would chase after the two boys while Ul would watch the noisy scene with motherly happiness, laughing at them.

It was back when everything was simple. Before they started to grow up and _she_ started to put on cerise colored lipstick (which Gray never thought _she_ needed; she was a natural beauty without any makeup) and Lyon started to have disruptive feelings (which Gray didn't blame him for having).

Fatigue started to eclipse the nostalgia brimming in his mind and as his memoires finally caught up to _that_ fateful evening, his tired eyes shut close.

—

_His eyes were completely hypnotized by the swirling flames, licking the decaying building. Red and orange gnawed at the monotonous grey of the building—it looked as though he could be chewed too, as though just one step forward, he would be minced into several bits. For some odd reason, the idea came as a pleasant one to him and he took a small step forward, forward to the fire that took on the appearance of a flock of birds, flying free…_

_Ah…how much he wanted those wings—_

He bolted straight up, a layer of sweat forming visibly on his skin. His heartbeat was rapid, random and deafening.

No matter how long ago, he could still vividly play the scene in his mind. He could still smell the charcoal burning intensely in the air. He could still hear the deranged screams of her sister, begging the factory owner to save their mother. Worst of all, he could still see the flaming fire, wildly swaying the air to ensnare a victim—_him_.

He felt his lungs fill with smoke and he got up, cranking the air conditioner even lower. Panting, he looked groggily towards the couch, knowing he was in no state to sleep soundly now.

"Fuck…why can't I sleep..?" He murmured.

How could he when there was a chance he would have to relive that memory again?

Scratching the back of his head for something to do, Gray spied a pink box by the side of his computer desk and was reminded by his friend's words.

_"I purchased the game you modeled for. It was...fun. Funner than being around you, that's for sure."_

Well, if it was more fun than him, then that was good. He went over the computer, opened the box, and inserted the CD. Anything was better than his nightmare—

—or so he thought until a girly, catchy song blared through his speakers, chanting, "_Living happily ever-oh-so after~! Living happily ever-oh-so-after~!_"

To make matters worse, Gray had to sit through endless of fairytale-esque sequences, most of which featured him in all those embarrassing clothes Gray had wished he didn't have to wear. It brought back the painful memories he suppressed; those grueling hours long work shifts which compromised greatly his pride as a man.

But _hey_, a hundred thousand dollars for an hour a week photo shoot was an incredible deal.

But now Gray could see why he was paid for so much as there were tons of embarrassing activity the player could do to the prince—er, _him_. Including...

_"Hehe! Stop that tickles!"_

"Hey," Gray frowned, half blushing at the embarrassing state his character was in and half upset at the inaccuracy. "I don't have a tickle spot there..." He then looked at his own self, a hesitant finger hovering over the tickle spot. Finally gathering the nerve, he raised his arm, brushed a finger from his free hand over his arm pits. He impulsively elicited a giggle.

"_Hehe—_fuck_,"_ realization dawned on him how his response matched so much like the one in the game, both with its feminine intonations. "How the fuck do they even _know_ that?"

Despite feeling oddly creep out from the game's precision to real life and the fact that customers, girls _he_ didn't know, were having a thrill at playing with him—albeit a _2D_ version—the young man continued to play, becoming more and more addicted as the clock ticked by.

It wasn't until around the twelfth hour did Gray notice. "Fuck. I'm having fun doing…_me_?"

—

He woke up to the sound of his doorbell ring repeatedly and a female voice shouting his name. His eyes cracked opened, squinting at the morning sunshine which streamed through the Venetian blinds.

Rubbing his eyes, he sat upright and stretched, his back feeling sore from sleeping in a sitting position. Playing an otome game all night was clearly not a wise choice.

The doorbell rang again and he glared tiredly at the door. It definitely wasn't Lucy after how they fought last night. It could only be some gang members.

"Oh goodie," he thought, not even bothering to grab something with him, "my death is today. That's great. Take care of yourself, Lyon. Good luck to you, Lucy. And go to hell—"

He reached the door, one hand scratching his back, the other twisting the knob. He cracked open the door an inch and was about to pop his head when the door opened wider from the other side.

He was hit in the head, sprawling backwards from the impact. "Ouch!" As he massaged his sore spot, he peered to see who his guest was.

A blue haired petite woman stood in front of him with a basket filled with goodies in her hands.

Gray blinked. _Who is she?_ "Uhm...can I help you?"

"Good morning Gray-sama!"

Well, she clearly knew him. But he didn't know her. _But wait..._sama_?__  
_  
"Uhm..."

"Good morning Gray-sama!" The girl chirped again, this time, thrusting the basket into his chest. "Is Gray-sama ready to start his life with his one and only princess, Juvia?"

…_what?!_

* * *

Word Count: 3,958

* * *

A/N: Yes, yes, this chapter was so gloomy and intense (well, I hope it was intense, haha). Rest assured, the next chapter will definitely be light hearted with more characters introduced including some side pairings, _wink, wink_.

I really did have a fun time writing this though. Probably because I'm a serious writer by nature but it was loads of fun making each introduced character come alive and coming up with their interactions. I hope this story to be my most vivid story yet, which means I'll pay most attention to this (yes, I'm probably one of those writers who are known for their lack of dedication so whatever I say will have no effect).

Nevertheless, I hope you guys enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I loved writing it. Let me know through a review, follow, or favorite how you feel!

Thanks a lot of reading!


	2. two

_two_

He vaguely recalled that night. It was their daily routine: when it was bedtime and they were all tucked in bed—all in one bed since they felt lonely in their individual bed—Ul would open up the big, thick picture book of fairy tale stories. The three of them would all have their individual opinions.

"I want to be the prince!" Lyon childishly said. "He looks cool!"

Gray and she would disagree.

"Nah, I want to be the bad guy," Gray would say devilishly, "bad guys can do whatever they want!"

Ul would pause in her reading, a faux worried look on her face. "Oh my, do I have to worry about Gray becoming a criminal?"

The little boy had let his mother's words sink in, terror spreading into his expression. "N-no." He had feared he was caught; he had stolen a couple of cookies from the jar before slipping in bed. His siblings asked him why he had crumbs at the rim of his mouth but luckily he wiped it away before Ul came in. "Besides! Nee-chan disagrees too!"

The attention shifted to the oldest of the three children, her half lidded bored eyes widened slightly before she lifted the blanket closer to her, touching the tip of her nose.

"Bad guys...get away with things better."

The blankness of her face shocked him—so much that he could still vividly describe it. Her eyes weren't its usual shape—wide, and full of possibilities—and were, instead, pointy, small.

Though they shared their thoughts so openly, Gray had an inkling that they were just covering what was true. From his brother's wistful gaze to his sister's oblivious look, the atmosphere was tainted with lies and wishes to keep them buried.

"Gray-sama?" But this blue haired girl was nothing like his memories and reality. As his thoughts faded back to present time, Gray inspected the girl whose sunny smile betrayed every thought she had: nervousness, excitement and joy. There was possibly no way she could've reminded him of his past so why did he think of it at first sight of her?

"Gray-sama—"

Before she could take an inch closer to him, he slammed the door in her face. _BAM!_ Turning his back, he could hear her banging and calling him to open up but he ignored her pleas.

_Advertising people. Annoying._ Did they not have enough entertainment screeching through people's ears over the phone that they had to intrude on people in person? Besides, he had so much to deal with that day. There was no time in his busy schedule to entertain a saleswoman, even if she was a pretty one.

"She was pretty cute, wasn't she?" Gray thought to himself as he lazily made his way towards his brother's bedroom. Fumbling through his pockets for the keys, he continued. "Her appearance isn't like Lucy's. It's more...daring? Fierce but soft around the edges. That's kind of—"

_Click!_ He managed to unlock his brother's door and peered into the bedroom. Lyon was still fast asleep. Smiling to himself, Gray locked the bedroom again and walked to the kitchen to prepare three meals for his brother and breakfast for himself.

As he readied the stove and took out ingredients from the cupboard, Gray sighed. Cooking three meals in the morning was a chore at first but after a week, it became a habit. Breakfast was piping hot porridge. Lunch was chicken noodle soup with a dash of hot sauce. Dinner was a plate of fried shrimp dumplings. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Always the same meal. Always the same temperature: hot, hot, hot.

Unlike Gray, Lyon had a preference for hot things, most likely a subconscious reminder of what had then happened, even if his memories were hazy.

But if Gray thought about things more carefully, or like a psychologist, hot meals were the only meals she was good at cooking. Perhaps it was a subconscious reminder of her.

The soup bubbled over now; Gray quickly turned off the stove, setting the pot of soup on a large tray with the other two meals.

It was a pity the state his brother was left in after the accident—then again, he was no better.

Gray looked down at his attire to decide that the cardigan he threw on was way too warm. He went back to his room for a better change of clothes (short sleeves and loose pants) while unlocking the door to his brother's bedroom. Sneaking a quick, last peek, Gray sighed at the sight of the sleeping figure and closed the door again, finally heading outside.

He was all dressed, had cooked all the meals, made sure—

"—Gray-sama! How could you slam the door on your princess like that?"

—the saleswoman went away.

Opening the door, Gray looked to see the blue haired woman standing where he last saw her, the bouquet in her hands now wilted and ruined. He vaguely wondered how it became that state in such a short period of time.

"Uhm...can I help you—"

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_ In three successive swings, the girl furiously wielded the bouquet against poor defenseless him. Each swing brought a painful sting to his cheeks, reminiscent to the sting that came with Lucy's slaps yesterday.

_"Why, oh why, me?"_

The whacking finally stopped and Gray reached to soothe his injuries when slender arms draped around his neck. He blinked. The girl was hugging him.

"Gray-sama, Juvia's sorry! She didn't mean to hurt you like that!"

_Then why the hell did you smack me in the first place?!_ Breathing in and trying not to let his stinging cheeks get him, Gray struggled to escape from the girl's hold. She didn't release.

"B-but," she said, burrowing her face into his chest. _Oh, she wasn't done?_ "G-gray-sama was rude so Juvia had no choice and!"

_Girls. I'll never get them._ His mind drifted back to his fight with Lucy briefly which he shook, along with the girl, off.

"Okay, I'll forgive you."

"R-really?" She looked at him with wide, teary eyes.

_Yeah, if it gets you to go away._ "Yeah! Sure! Everyone makes mistakes!"

The girl let out an obnoxiously happy sigh, complete with the little clapping and eyelash batting.

_Yeah, make that stupidly happy face of yours._ "So...uhm...can you move? I need to get going..."

...and immediately, her grin dropped and she formed an angry pout. "Is Gray-sama trying to cheat on Juvia?!"

"Look," he gritted his teeth, trying his best to level his voice and keeping the situation as controlled as possible. By now, his neighbors popped their heads out their doors, excited to see the once-in-a-lifetime drama in their building.

_No drama is exactly _WHY_ I wanted to stay here._

"Let's talk someplace private, okay?"

"Juvia wants to talk here unless..." Her expression softened to a strange, giddy state and she covers her bosom with her arms, looking up at him shyly. "...Gray-sama wants to do it..."

Utterly mortified, Gray reached to snatch Juvia's arms and tugged her away, his face reddened under the stares of his watching neighbors, who suddenly grew in number. All the while he dragged the girl down the stairs, the girl went on and on about how much more passionate he turned out to be and how she would forever live in eternal bliss. All the while he listened to all of this, he wondered how the hell he was stuck in such a mess.

When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs and walked a good distance away from the apartment, Gray chose a nice shady spot under a tree and sat at the bench. He looked at the girl who stood motionless a few footsteps away.

"Well?" Gray asked. "You created a scene back there, embarrassed me. When I'm ready to talk, you don't—"

"—Gray-sama slammed door into Juvia's face."

"Look, I know I did," he felt his patience rapidly draining, astounded by how easily this girl was at gnawing his patience. He wasn't hot blooded—he was level headed, cool. He was the one who pissed people off with his jerkish, devil-may-care attitude.

But here, he was at the receiving end of the argument for the first time. He hated to say so but he disliked feeling this way. "But can you PLEASE quit calling me like I'm your fucking boyfriend when I'm not—"

"—ep! Gray-sama's shirt is off!" The girl immediately cowered, covering her eyes with her hands, whose fingers parted and unparted as though she wanted to see his chest but pretended not, settling to peep through the gaps of her fingers.

And just like that, his anger was drained as well as his energy. He brushed a hand in his hair and saw that his shirt was buttoned off somehow. He must've taken it off while he was venting out.

A light punch poked his belly, a small fist balling his shirt. Sighing, Gray took the shirt from the girl who had one hand covering her face, and then two when her hands were free.

He put the shirt on then. "You can look now."

Not that his permission mattered since the cracks between her fingers gave her clear view of him anyways. Still, she removed her hands, now free to fawn over him more freely. She immediately popped by his side. "So is Gray-sama ready for his date with Juvia?"

"Look. I don't know who you are. You just appeared out of nowhere. You _hit_ me with _roses_. You expect me to just…to just _date you_?!"

"Yes. Because Juvia and Gray-sama are meant to be."

"UGH!" He felt annoyance rushing rapidly back to his head. Just as he let the annoyance peak and his mouth release this in verbal form, his phone rang and vibrated in his pockets.

"Shit," he said, taking the phone and ignoring the girl's curious expressions. "Hello?"

"You good-for-nothing boy, where are you?" Gray immediately recognized the old, cranky voice. Makarov Dreyar, his boss at work. "Why aren't you at work you?"

"I'm on my way, old man," Gray said, knowing he would piss his boss off with the way he addressed him. He looked over to the girl. "I had an unexpected visitor."

There was a brief silence on the other line until Makarov spoke. "Are you affiliated with shady business again?"

"No, no," Gray denied. _Not yet anyways._ "I'm with a girl."

"Really?" The man sounded incredulous. "Bring her over then."

"Wh-what?" He casted the girl a bewildered look. "N-no! I am _not_ bringing this girl over. I am n—"

Before he could refuse Makarov's demands some more, his hand held was snatched away by the girl, who immediately placed the phone to her ear. "Juvia would love to meet Gray-sama's friends! Yes! Thank you very much! Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh…"

Gray tried to get his phone back but the girl promptly poked him in his armpits, driving him into a fetal state.

"Hee…" Gray bit his mouth, small tears cornering his eyes. The memory of him playing the game last night came to mind. _Why the hell is the game so damn accurate?! But wait…is this why she keeps addressing me as…sama?_

"Gray-sama," he looked up, seeing the girl hold out his handheld. "Here you go."

He swiped it back quickly, getting up, with his arms wrapped around himself defensively. He didn't know this girl longer than two hours and already she posed a bigger threat than the gang members he encountered ever did. She took no notice of his behavior though, somehow able to slink her arms around his, snuggling the side of her cheeks against his side.

"Gray-sama and Juvia should go now!"

Gray frowned, a thought springing to his mind. "Do you…really believe that I'm a prince?"

"Yes, Gray-sama is." Her response came with a cheery tone and a sunny smile. "He is a prince _especially_ for Juvia."

_Delusional,_ Gray thought with a groan. He shook the girl's grip off of him and walked ahead, hearing the girl promptly follow after him, exclaiming that his behavior was unfit as a prince.

_Prince my ass._

—

"…lastly, the place _reeks_ of alcohol," he finished, having given the run-down of what to expect at his work place, his second home, his refuge that was Fairy Tail. He studied the girl's face for any signs of discomfort. Her lacey aquamarine dress and manicured nails couldn't possibly come cheap. She had to be the daughter of some wealthy man. And if his hunch was right, his description of Fairy Tail had to drive spoiled girl crying home. "Any questions?"

To his disappointment, the girl betrayed his expectations. Her face was neutral the entire time, her way of digesting unexpected news, Gray had hoped. But it turned out, she was that way for a different reason. "Nope!"

"Well, uhm…do you want to leave?" _And never return?_

"Nope! That's not the case." She smiled. "Juvia is just absorbing what Gray-sama said since Juvia wants to fully know Gray-sama. Juvia loves Gray."

…_okay…_ Not knowing how to respond, Gray opened his mouth but was cut off by another person who called him.

"_Gray!_" He was promptly grabbed by the collar the next second, dragged into the building and brought under the spotlight. He squinted, barely making out silver hair and manly features. Elfman. "Gray isn't a man," he exclaimed, "since he's cheating on Lucy!"

His face reddening, Gray corrected, "Lucy and I _aren't_ dating." He peered around to see that no one else was at the bar besides a brown haired woman with a drink in one hand and sack of money—most likely from that mysterious donor—in another. She caught his stare then and tossed an easygoing smile and a wave. "Hey Gray, Lu—" Stopping herself, her smile slipped. "That's not Lucy. Where is she?"

"Cana, how would I know?" Gray sighed, frustrated at the mention of the girl who he had fought with. "I'm not dating Lucy!"

His response seemed to frustrate Cana, who got up, tossing both the drink and money aside. She strode over to him, her face close enough to touch his. He could see her pissed mood etched in her scrunched eyebrows and smell the alcohol emitting between her parted lips. Just standing there, she didn't say anything, knowing it was enough to piss him further. And it did.

The stench and her glare were aggravating. Before he could push her away, he was grabbed by the arm. He looked over his shoulder. Laxus Dreyar.

"You shouldn't treat women so rudely, Fullbuster," he spoke with a smirk and droll tone. He let go of his arm.

"Laxus!" Cana shoved Gray to the side, forgetting what had pissed her off in the first place. "I can beat Gray in a brawl anytime let alone _you_. So piss off!"

Amused, Laxus asked, "You want to test that?"

Cana was about to accept his wager when Gray interrupted her, asking Laxus, "Where's your old man, Laxus?"

Tearing his eyes off of Cana for the slightest second, Laxus thumbed towards the staff quarters.

"Thanks," Gray nodded and then went looking for the blue haired girl. "Get a room you two," he muttered.

To Gray's surprise, the girl was holding what looked like a civilized conversation with Elfman all this time. It was rare for people to feel comfortable around him, let alone someone who met him for the first time. Even Lucy had a hard time becoming accustomed to Elfman's strange speech.

"Yo," he interjected, noticing Juvia brightening at the sight of him. She immediately ran over to him, clinging her arm around his.

Giving up, Gray turned to Elfman. "Sorry about making you deal with _her_."

"It's fine," Elfman reassured. "I was able to have a conversation with a true woman about love!"

Gray rolled his eyes, contemplating on humoring him about _his_ love life when a screechy, female voice shouted for Elfman. Sensing impending doom, Gray quickly ran with Juvia in hand. If Evergreen were to find Juvia with him, he would definitely not hear the end of it.

When he reaches Marakov's office, he paled at the sight of a lavender haired woman inside already. Mirajane Strauss.

"Okay, let's get out before—"

Before Gray could make a move, Mirajane turned around, seeing the two of them. She smiles, which Gray paled at. Marakov popped his head by then, brightening and gesturing for Gray and Juvia to enter.

"Let's go Gray-sama!" Juvia tugged Gray happily.

Inside, Mirajane and Marakov gushed at how cute they were. Gray, too fearful of what Mirajane may do, took their gushings in silence.

"Well that's all said and done," Mirajane nodded, staring warmly at them both. "What's her name?"

Gray opened his mouth to answer but realized then that he couldn't. He didn't know her name. An awkward pause filled the air before Juvia obliviously said, "Juvia. Juvia Lockser."

"Juvia Lockser. What a beautiful name," Mirajane chirped, giving Gray a _why-are-you-so-stupid_ look.

"It is unsettling that you don't know her name," Marakov remarked. "But we'll leave that for another time. Mirajane, Juvia. Do you two mind leaving the room and letting Gray and I talk?"

"Sure!" Mirajane hooked her arm around Juvia, pulling her out the room.

Observing Juvia's happy expression and Mirajane's chatty self, Gray thought that Juvia was fitting in way too well for an outsider.

Someone cleared his throat and Gray turned back to Marakov.

"Gray, I think we may have a lead on her."

Gray's expression became serious. "You mean her?"

Marakov nodded, pulling out a manila envelope. Taking it, Gray tore it open, spilling out blurry pictures of a female figure. He could barely make out the hair and the eyes but they were distinct enough to be recognizable. _It is her_.

Gray grabbed Marakov by the shoulder. "Where's the place this picture was taken?"

"I've written the location on the back of the photos."

Sprinting for the door, Gray was stopped from moving any farther by Marakov's voice. "It's fine to be so eager to look for her but Gray, I fear…she's caught up in something dangerous." Gray turned around, seeing Marakov's apprehension. "You were supposed to have a bright future Gray. You are smart."

"No, Lyon's the one with the grades."

"Is Lyon okay?"

Realizing this was what Marakov wanted to know all along, Gray snapped. "I have to go."

"You shouldn't have brought up something you didn't want to talk about boy."

"Then don't ask me things that you know I won't reply."

"I'm in no mood to argue with a youth who have no respect for their elders."

Gray rolled his eyes, turning back when something was thrown against his back. He looked down to see keys laying at his feet.

"You have a job," Marakov said from behind. "You can do this much right? You'll make good pay. Plus, you owe me for the lead I got on your sister."

—

"_Now be as one,_

_I want to try believing,_

_That there is such a thing as an everlasting love__!_

_Let's etch ourselves into each other__,_

_In this destiny which we won't regret!"_

"My life is so miserable," Gray sighed. "I'm an intelligent, youthful man who is destined for greatness but instead, I'm in a dank shed, hauling boxes into a truck with a girl who can't sing at all."

The singing stopped and the blue haired girl pouted from where she sat, perched atop the boxes he had to transfer and load to the truck outside the storeroom they were both in. "Juvia sings wonderfully well! How could Gray-sama say that?!"

Going back to his work, Gray rolled his eyes. "Hai, hai. Whatever."

"Well, if Gray-sama was doing something more fun," Juvia said, "Juvia would stop singing."

"Are you willing to help move these boxes."

The girl jumped off from the boxes, standing in front of him. She patted his shoulder and for a second, he felt that she would offer her soul to him. She met his eyes with adoration, placing her hand over her chest. "_Gomennasai_, even for Gray-sama, Juvia is not willing to help."

"Figures," Gray shrugged Juvia off, resuming back to work. _Don't give me false hopes, you vixen._ "I better get a large sum from this." _Or, at least complete this on time so I can search for her._

Minutes passed on with Gray struggling to move the boxes and Juvia singing to her heart's content. He would yell at her to stop and she would retort back that she wouldn't. Gray had received similar tasks like this one from Marakov before and despite the lack of help and earbortion-like singing, Juvia made the experience less…boring.

He would even admit that it was fun but refused so, as he loaded the final box and the girl approached him immediately.

"So can Gray-sama and Juvia go on a date now?"

Frustrated, Gray was about to yell, "_No!_" when he heard approaching footsteps and a dry voice saying, "My, my. No one told me that Fullbuster got a _girl._"

With a blink of an eye, Gray found himself surrounded by men he had never seen before. They all carried weapons with them, their expression not friendly. Leading this crew, the slim, spiky red haired man stepped forward. Cobra of Oración Seis.

_Damn, things must be serious if _he's_ sent here,_ Gray thought, backing Juvia with his arm. "Cobra? What are you doing here?"

"You know why," He said. "Master says I gotta clean up what Angel and Racer failed to do. He's gettin' impatient, you know."

_So that's why they beat me up harder than usual. _

"Alright and?" Gray decided to play dumb, counting that Cobra would somehow find it in himself to pity Gray and his wretched state of life. "It's not like I'm afraid what that old man will do."

But unlike Angel and Racer, who in some sick world Gray had grown to think of as parents, Cobra was different. His soul was hardened by the atrocities Gray had just begun to throw himself in which was the Brain, Oración Seis's leader, easily trusted Cobra as opposed to Angel and Racer, who were in Oración Seis way longer than Cobra was.

"Wrong answer boy," Cobra lifted his hand, his fingers poised to snap. "But, well. It's expected as much." His fingers snapped and though the sound was barely audible, the men around Cobra were quick to act.

Charging right for Gray, the men swung their weapons to beat up, to kill. Before a blade could touch his skin, Gray kicked the assaulter in the stomach. He punched another man behind him, pushed the guy into another running towards them. He didn't see a person one of the boxes he unloaded sneak behind him though and he felt a sharp punch impact his skull.

Twirling unsteadily, Gray raised his arm to punch when someone grabbed it before he could, tugging his entire body away from the fighting scene. With his vision blurring, he struggled to make out his escapee. _Juvia._

"Let's go!" She was saying, over the roaring shouts of, "They're going over _there_," behind him. For as long as he'd live, Gray Fullbuster never ran away from a fight. Whether he would win or not, he refused to back down. But here he was, running away from a fight for the first time, arm in arm with a girl who he tried to protect too.

After they had gotten a good amount of distance away from the assaulters, Juvia dragged him to a nearby alley where she hid them both behind a dumpster. She positioned him comfortably against the dumpster while she crouched to inspect the situation.

_How different,_ Gray thought, his mind numbing and struggling to keep the dizzying world around him in check. _This girl is compared to how she looks. She's resourceful, quick._

Juvia turned him then and Gray tried turning his head as though to say, _Nu uh. I wasn't thinking of you._ Juvia didn't notice this though, saying, "Juvia thinks the coast is clear."

Gray nodded but with even with the slightest movement, pain shot through his entire body and mind. Still, he leaned in, finding Juvia's faint perfume strangely soothing. _So she is a rich girl._ "Th-thanks," he mumbled against the fabric of her clothing. "For saving…me…"

Flustered, Juvia struggled for a word. "W-well. I-it's really nothing. Juvia is just doing what she has to—Gray-sama?" Her happiness turned into worry as she felt Gray's breathing becoming heavier against her clothing. "A-are you okay?"

"Yes," He met her midnight blue eyes and wondered if he could find stars in them. "I'm fine." Her eyes were the last thing he saw before the darkness in them spilled out and swallowed him whole.

* * *

Word Count: 4141

* * *

A/N: *hopes it is clear that Gray lost consciousness, lol*

'Be As One' by W-inds has always been my favorite FT ending and it's just so fitting that it's about Gray, one of my favorite FT characters. Anywho, even though I've attached the 'hiatus' tag, this chapter was long overdue. In my defense, I was waiting to finish planning this story out but decided that I might as well have _something_ as a holiday gift to y'all. (Happy holidays!)

I find it so funny that I've never enjoyed Juvia or her romance before but after writing this chapter, I've begun to appreciate her. You can never understand a person until you go through what they go through, and this so dearly applies.

Thanks again for being patient with me and thanks for your review, follows, and favorites!


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